Decisions To Be Made
by Windigo
Summary: ***COMPLETED***Marguerite goes into her past, present, and future M/R
1. The Journey

Decisions To Be Made  
~*~  
This story is dedicated to all those who have suffered because of the tragedy on Tuesday, September 11. My heart goes out to those who had family or friends in Washington and New York.   
  
NOTE: A warm thank you to everyone last person who read and reviewed my first story!! I'd love to say who you all are, but i don't think my memory can handle it....but THANK YOU!!!  
It meant a lot :)  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters associated with "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World", but there are a few in here I believe that I do own…  
~*~  
Part 1  
~*~  
"Where is this damned heat coming from?" exclaimed a rather frustrated Marguerite Krux as she wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. Her eyes roamed skyward to try and see if the sun had decided to peek out from the grey clouds above but she couldn't even see a beam of sunlight that might be the cause of the tormenting warmth.  
  
The others around her rolled their eyes at each other and continued on digging up the plants that Summerlee had pointed out. His garden was in need of replenishing and who better to do it than the four most agile people in the tree house.  
  
"Marguerite, you've barely dug up a full plant," John Roxton pointed out, gesturing his shovel to the half-exposed roots of the leafy bush that was at her feet.  
  
She eyed the exposed vegetation that surrounded the hunter's feet and sniffed. "It's too hot to do anything that requires movement."  
  
The hunter sighed, but the heat had gotten to him too, and he didn't feel like getting into any arguments. Instead, the soft sound of shovels scraping against the damp earth resumed, and Marguerite was left glaring at the rest of them.  
  
"Since you all seem to be doing just fine here, I think I'll go get a drink," the heiress announced and stormed off in the direction that Veronica had pointed out before, not wanting to wait around for someone to try and stop her.  
  
Fuming over the silent treatment that they had all given her, she stomped along the narrow deer trail, angrily swatting at the branches blocking her way. She was feeling more frustrated than normal as the heat wave the plateau was suffering continued on relentlessly. Even the apemen had taken a break from hunting the explorers down because of the sweltering humidity.  
  
Marguerite could hear the steady trickle of the stream as she untangled a strand of hair from one particularly spiky branch. She sighed in relief as her beautiful grey eyes caught sight of the moist rocks surrounding the watery trail.  
  
Gulping down the water, Marguerite splashed some on her face and around her neck to relieve the annoying sense of being overheated, relishing in the cool spray.  
  
Feeling decidedly cooler, the heiress sat back against a tree, resting her head on her knees as she watched the stream run calmly on its way.  
  
The crystal clear water seemed to call out as Marguerite formed an idea in her head. Biting her lip, she hesitated for a second than decided to go on ahead.  
  
'Nobody's here to see you anyway,' she scolded herself, sliding off the confining boots and stockings, leaving them in a neat pile underneath the tree's shady canopy. Careful to keep from slipping, she dipped her foot into the stream, testing the footing below.  
  
Satisfied with it, she stepped in and shuffled around, rolling her breeches up to her knees so she could access the deeper parts of the water, savouring the sense of feeling cooled off for once.  
  
A snap of a branch in the background brought her back to reality as her head snapped into attention while she surveyed the surrounding forest.  
  
"Hello?" Marguerite called out, "Roxton? Malone? This better not be one of your stupid jokes!"  
  
Another snap made her jump about a foot in the air. Trying to place the exact direction it came from, she turned around, scrutinizing every bush and rock for anything that seemed out of place. 'Great. Just what I need, a peeping tom.'  
  
"Veronica?" When no answer came back, the heiress tried a different tactic.   
  
"Come out you coward and face me!"  
  
Only a few birds called back to her question. Just to be safe, she edged closer to the rocky stream bank, one hand sliding up to meet her gun at her waist.  
  
Just the feel of the smooth metal made her relax. Smirking to herself, she shook her head at her own reaction.   
  
'Probably just some wild pig looking for food,' Marguerite thought. Yet-though she felt somewhat reassured by this thought-that didn't stop her from deciding to go back and see how the others were doing rather than wasting the day paddling.  
  
The third crack sounded closer, and seemed to echo across the valley in which they had come hiking through as they followed Summerlee's directions.   
  
Her nerves were on the very edge as she scrambled to the stream bank. If it was something dangerous, she'd rather have some footwear on when she ran than the bare feet she had now. It wouldn't do her any good as she ran from a raptor to stop along the way to pull thistles out of her feet.  
  
In her pursuit up the riverbank, she was too preoccupied with her own worries to think about the slick stones underfoot until she felt her feet slipping from under her.   
  
Unable to react in time, Marguerite hit the ground hard, her back screaming out against the sharp points scraping into her back. Her head snapped to one side as she went down, striking the rocks below, and for a long time, Marguerite's world disappeared into a pitch-black haze…  
  
~*~  
With a start, she sat up, feeling rather dizzy and out of place. Shaking her head a few times to rid it of the funny ringing feeling, Marguerite slowly got up to her feet. Instinctively her hand went up to her forehead, but she could feel no bump or scrape. Confused, she looked out into the horizon and got a jolt of amazement.  
  
There seemed to be no end to the grassy expanse that surrounded her. No matter how much she strained, Marguerite could not see a single bump or hill destroying the seemingly perfect line of the horizon.  
  
Feeling rather out of place, she averted her eyes to the more interesting part of the scenery. A large white mansion stood out against the flat lines, rising high above the golden stalks at its feet. A roof held up with two long columns shaded its high arched door. Tall windows were stamped all along the building's white walls, shutters put off to either side of the long glass panes.  
  
Marguerite hesitated at the bottom of the marble steps, wondering whether or not it was the smartest thing to do.  
  
'To hell with intelligent,' she finally decided, 'I want answers and this seems to be the most likely place to find them.'  
  
Her footsteps seemed to ring out across the fields as she climbed to the door. Although there were shadows lazily stretched out, the heiress could not see-for the life of her-what exactly was causing them. The sky was as grey as it had been when she was in the jungle.  
  
Upon reaching the door, Marguerite reached up for the brass knocker that hung from the white door. The knocker was in the shape of a horse head, bridled, as any carriage horse in London would be.   
  
On her second knock, the grand door swung open, revealing a high ceiling hallway, as white as the rest of the house.  
  
'Whoever lives here needs to need a serious decorator about this colour.'  
  
Peering around the door, she found herself looking into the eyes of a woman who seemed to be just as intent on staring at her.  
  
The woman was the first to regain her wits. "Welcome." Her voice was soft and feathery and reminded the dark haired beauty of a spring breeze of sorts.  
  
Questions ran through Marguerite's mind as she tried to settle on something to reply. At last, she decided on one that would help to restore her train of thought.  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
The woman smiled, her clear blue eyes radiating warmth and a peculiar amusement. "That is not of any concern."  
  
Feeling even more baffled than she had been upon seeing the house Marguerite pursed her lips in annoyance  
  
"Well, who are you?"   
  
The mysterious woman laughed, a light tinkly sound that ground at the heiress' nerves.  
  
"You may call me Sophie."   
  
Marguerite studied the petite woman who stood in front of her, assessing just exactly who she was. There seemed to be a warm air around her, as she smiled up at the stranger who had just intruded on her property. Sophie's eyes held no malice, only a welcoming shine that radiated off of her whole body. 'This woman can't possibly mean anything harm. She'd probably cry if she killed a spider.'  
  
"Marguerite Krux," She introduced, holding out a hand. Sophie shook it just as warmly as she had presented herself.  
  
"Come," the auburn haired woman announced, gesturing for Marguerite to follow her. Without hesitation, she shut the massive door and followed behind as they turned into a doorway on their left and made their way down a long white hallway.   
  
Marguerite found it odd that there seemed to be no visible furniture or paintings-or anything for that matter-decorating the household. It seemed empty and desolate without the paintings or vases filled with flowers that the households in England had always kept. Even the tree house-which was usually bordering on messy and somewhat neat-had more warmth and welcome than this house did.  
  
She felt a shiver run up her spine as they continued, but Marguerite knew it wasn't from the cool breeze that circulated around them. There was something oddly unsettling about the whole thing, and the dark haired woman was determined to find out just what it was.  
  
~*~  
  
Meanwhile, the others were beginning to feel worried as to their friend's whereabouts. Even Ned seemed agitated as the packaged up the last of the plants into the crates.  
  
"How long can it take to get a drink of water?" Roxton questioned out loud, settling his rifle over his shoulder.   
  
Veronica looked up from the rather wild bush she was trying to pack up, studying the hunter's stiff position.  
  
"Marguerite's probably just lost track of the time." She was trying to reassure him, but deep down, the jungle girl knew her words sounded empty to the man's ears.  
  
"Veronica's right. She's probably just gone off after some sparkly object that conveniently caught her eye," Malone added and they all shared a smile. Each explorer knew the heiress' fondness for anything that glittered, and they all knew how sidetracked she could get when she found something.  
  
"Even then, she still should have been back by now," Roxton said, worry etched into his face as he tried to look past the trees to find the woman.   
  
Ned sent Veronica a look and silently they both agreed.  
  
"Why don't you go look for her while Veronica and I finish up here?" Ned offered, Veronica nodding her verification. Roxton looked hesitant for a moment, before his eyes gave in.  
  
"I'll be back in five minutes," He stated, "If I'm not back by then head back to the tree house. Got it?"  
  
His companions nodded and watched the hunter shoot off into the dense underbrush heading towards the stream.  
  
Veronica smiled, and bent down to pick up another bush. "I'd give them ten minutes if I were you."  
  
~*~  
  
The hunter's skilfully strained eye picked up the signs of movement through the brush; broken branches hung off of limbs, others scattered over the ground. There was no doubt that Marguerite had come this way that was for sure.  
  
'Damned infuriating woman,' Roxton cursed, ducking through some rather low-hanging branches. 'Why can't she just stay in one place?'  
  
Stepping over a rotting log, he began to contemplate the possibilities of trouble that Marguerite could have run into-none were very pretty. His pace quickened as he though of the numerous dangers that lurked in the shadows of the plateau. If anything had happened to Marguerite…anything at all…  
  
He emerged from the bushes, and caught sight of her boots hiding under a large willow tree. His eyes roamed the stream banks for any sign of her whereabouts.  
  
That was when he saw her still form sprawled across the rocks. Crying out her name, Roxton scrambled to where she lay, unable to think of anything but concern for the one woman who had touched his heart.  
  
His hand reached down for her pale face, bringing her face from its side to face him.  
  
Wordlessly, he touched the oozing gash that scarred her beautiful face. Unknowingly, a few tears trickled down his handsome face as he whispered her name over and over, trying to detect any sign of life that still coursed through her frail form. He managed to detect a weak pulse, but that still could not stop him from fretting.  
  
Scooping the still form into his arms, he practically ran back to Ned and Veronica as panic overtook every sensible gene in his body.  
  
~*~  
  
The room they now stood in was as white as every other place in the whole bloody house and Marguerite was starting to get sick and tired of the same monotonous colour decorating each and every wall.  
  
"What do you think of my abode?" Sophie's voice seemed to ring like a bell around the room, bouncing off the walls, as if she had just read the heiress' mind.  
  
"It's rather bland," Marguerite pointed out. "Don't you know of any other colours?"  
  
Sophie simply smiled. "White is a special colour, and not all appreciate it for what it is. White has no emotion, it leaves no mark on anybody nor does anybody leave a mark on it. It has no ties, no beginning and it has no end."  
  
Marguerite suddenly felt a new curiosity about her companion. She certainly sounded like some philosopher as she had recited that and once again, the heiress was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into this time round.  
  
"What's the real reason I'm here?" Marguerite demanded, feeling a sudden stretch of impatience "It doesn't seem like I've been invited for tea and biscuits as far as I can tell."  
  
Sophie regarded her for a few silent moments before her mouth opened to speak. " You have been brought here to examine the three stages of your life: The past, present and future."  
  
Marguerite quirked a brow. "But why me of all people?"  
  
"You need to open your eyes to the world around you, Marguerite. I know you have questions that need to be answered. That is why you are here."  
  
For a while, all Marguerite could do was stare hard at the little woman before her. What did she mean by 'opening her eyes to the world'. Her eyes were as wide open as they could be!  
  
Crossing her arms quite firmly over her chest, she adopted an unyielding stance. "Explain to me why I should be here instead of back at the tree house."  
  
For the first time since Marguerite had seen her, Sophie's smile fell and she sighed.  
  
"I can see why they sent you too me," She muttered, but Marguerite caught every last word.  
  
"Who sent me here? Was it that thing that kept making the racket in the bushes?"   
  
Sophie held up a hand, stopping the ongoing questioning almost as quickly as it stopped. Marguerite's nerves were on end, and being inside the house painted all in white with some stranger who seemed to be able to see into her problems, the dark-haired woman was willing to avoid a fight…for once in her life.  
  
"I am not allowed to tell you all but this: If they felt you needed my guidance, then you must do, or else you would not be here. Even if you refuse to go along, I will have no choice but to force you."  
  
"No one forces me to do anything, least of all some strange hussy who thinks she knows everything!"   
  
Surprisingly, all Sophie did was break into a smile again as she walked over to a door on the far wall.  
  
Marguerite stayed where she was for a few minutes, trying to get her point across, but something-some strange sense-cause her to walk over to where the woman was standing.  
  
Sophie turned the brass knob ('Finally something that isn't white!' Marguerite thought) and the door swung open to reveal nothing but a pitch-black space.  
  
"Here is where your journey begins, Marguerite Krux."  
  
And without another word, Sophie took the heiress by the arm and shoved her into the void.  
  
~*~  
TBC…….  
If you have any questions or comments, feel free to email me at: sail_the_seas@hotmail.com  
  
  
  



	2. The Past

~*~  
Disclaimer: SEE CHAPTER ONE  
  
Author's note: Sorry for the delay but my teachers decided it would be a good idea to assign lots of homework for the last couple weeks *grumbles* Anyway, i hope you enjoy the next part of my story. Thank you to every last person who reviewed my story so far...it means so much to me!  
  
Any feedback, questions, or comments can be sent to: sail_the_seas@hotmail.com  
~*~  
Part 2: The Past  
~*~  
  
The room was chilly and seem as unwelcoming as it had been when Marguerite had first moved in.  
  
The four-poster bed sat in its usual designated spot-in the far corner-with its faded bedspread that was once a vibrant violet. The window's dull grey curtains were held back by a strand of rope on either side; the window seat's violet covering turning black in the fading light.  
  
Marguerite's fingers barely brushed the shelves that covered one wall, gazing longingly at the dolls that sat upon them, their haunting eyes staring through her. Her collection had been the envy of the girls at the convent and had sparked some unwarranted jealously between her and the others.  
  
Just thinking about them made Marguerite cringe. Her years here had not been the most memorable…  
  
The creak of the door stopped her in her tracks as she slowly turned to see who it was who entered into her room, not expecting in all her life to see this.  
  
A rather younger version of Marguerite silently shut the aged door behind her, two carefully wrapped bundles in her arms. The faint smell of roasting turkey wafted in through the crack under the door, as the older Marguerite stiffened in surprise.  
  
The young girl gently placed her packages on the bed; careful to make sure neither fell with too much force. Climbing up onto the bed, she sat cross-legged in front of her gifts, deciding which one to pick first.  
  
Memories were invading Marguerite's memory as she watched herself carefully pick the larger gift, squishing the paper to try and see what it was. Her Christmas' at the convent were always hopelessly empty and lacked any semblance of joy. The truly bright moments in the dark days of winter had been the gifts that the two Sisters would always give her.  
  
The younger Marguerite was now unwrapping the last pieces of paper from the Victorian doll that hid beneath it. The heiress remembered this doll well. Its sparkling blue eyes and long blond ringlets had always had an honorary seat on her bed along with her baby doll and bear. Sister Celia had known of her fondness for the porcelain dolls and-whether out of pity or simply kindness-had always gotten one as a Christmas present.  
  
The second package held the small box of trademark chocolate-coated fruit that sister Mariana was so well known for. She did this for every girl in the convent but always seemed to include an extra strawberry or two for Marguerite.  
  
The young girl held on to the doll tightly as she munched on a rather juicy looking piece of grape, her eyes down cast and rather sad.   
  
Marguerite the older was tempted to reach out to her younger self just to reassure the lonely soul that everything would be all right, but stopped herself before she got any closer. This young girl wouldn't be able to feel her and she wasn't going to do her older self any good by re-opening old wounds.  
  
A sudden knock at the door caused both woman and girl in the room jump.   
  
The younger Marguerite called out, "Who is it?"  
  
"The carols will be starting soon," An elderly voice said through the heavy wooden door. The older woman recognized the voice instantly; it was Sister Rose. She always had a soft spot for the troubled child, and would always hang a pine wreath on Marguerite's door come Christmas time. In truth, none of the sisters had been openly cruel or mean to her-unlike their pupils-but it was the three, Rose, Mariana, and Celia, that made the young girl seem wanted and cared for in the great wide world.  
  
"I will not be attending," The younger one replied, clutching harder to her new doll. Marguerite was beginning to remember this Christmas well. It had been the first time since she had arrived that Marguerite refused to participate with the singing of the carols. It was just too much to see all the happy families gathered by the large Christmas tree, laughing and singing together.   
  
Marguerite watched her younger self get up off the bed as the heavy footsteps receded back into the warmth of the downstairs, and head over to the window seat, leaning her forehead against the window.  
  
The older woman walked closer, trying to see how her younger self was doing.  
  
The young girl, doll under one arm, reached down into her rough wool blazer and withdrew a silver oval locket, freshly polished and gleaming in the candlelight.  
  
Fingering her own around her neck, Marguerite the older watched single tear slip down the child's face as the first chorus of "Away in a Manger" began.  
  
Inching forward, Marguerite just managed to catch her whispered words.  
  
"Merry Christmas Mommy and Daddy." Sniffing, she opened the locket, rereading the words for the hundredth time. "Wherever you are."  
  
Marguerite's heart lurched as she watched herself reach out for the parents she had never met. No child should have to go through what she did…no one at all…  
  
A small hand placed itself on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. Whirling around, Marguerite came face to face with Sophie, who seemed to be just as cheerful as ever.  
  
"Your past was not the best."  
  
"My, is it quite that obvious?" Marguerite retorted, easily covering up her true emotion over it. She had become skilled at creating barriers over the years.  
  
Sophie either did not pick up on the sarcasm (or chose to ignore it) for her expression did not change as she said quietly, "Your parents loved you, Marguerite. But they never got to prove it."  
  
Marguerite's mouth froze before she could pass her cutting remark. How could this woman know anything about her parents? Clearly not all was as it seemed in this strange place…whatever this place was.  
  
"How could you know that?" Marguerite demanded, turning away from the scene in front of her to face the auburn-haired woman directly.   
  
"All will reveal itself in time," was the only reply Marguerite got as the scene before her changed from the chilly room at the convent to a crowded street in London.  
  
The dark-haired girl could be no more than twenty as she hurried down the sidewalk, dodging the crowds. In her arms, a bag of groceries was kept close to the chest to avoid someone knocking it over.   
  
A stranger-apparently not looking as to where he was going-ran into the young Marguerite, sending her sprawling across the hard floor. The man stopped suddenly, and rushed over to her, trying to help her gather the runaway fruits and vegetables that were now rolling about on the ground.  
  
"Why didn't you watch where you were going?" Cried an outraged Marguerite, struggling to catch what remained of her apples, "You insolent little sod! I'd have your head if I wasn't down here!"  
  
The young man, blushing hard, apologized profusely as he grabbed her hand and helped her up.  
  
The older Marguerite watched the two people make eye contact and could almost feel that spark triggered again in her heart.  
  
"He was handsome."  
  
For a moment, Marguerite had forgotten all about her companion, but now she turned away from the couple-who were exchanging names-to face Sophie.  
  
"I've seen dogs that were handsomer than he was," She muttered, keeping herself well away from the two.  
  
"Who was he?" Sophie asked gently, as though she was dealing with something that could break any minute.  
  
Marguerite hesitated for a moment, determining the safety factor of opening up another closed door, then decided to go ahead.  
  
"His name was Philip Aston, a young man with a fortune at his disposal. His father was in the stocks and had amassed quite the fortune over the years." She sighed wistfully, as she let herself one brief glance at the man who was now kissing her past self's hand gallantly. "He showed me what it was like to be cared for, to be pampered."  
  
"And loved."  
  
Marguerite's eyes widened at Sophie's comment, but neither denied nor agreed to it. She simply shrugged.  
  
"It lasted seven months before he fell for a busty blond by the name of Elizabeth. She was everything a man could want, wealth and all." A hint of bitterness rose in Marguerite's voice as she went on. "And I was alone again."  
  
Sophie looked as though she had suddenly found an answer as she said; "Now this explains it."  
  
"Explains what?"  
  
A sad smile crossed the woman's face. "Why you fear love."  
  
Marguerite laughed cynically as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Fear love? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."  
  
The London scenery faded into a hazy picture as Sophie moved forward. "Stupid it may be, but there is truth to it. Why else do you shun the affections that have been offered to you? From Summerlee, from Roxton-"  
  
"Roxton?" Marguerite scoffed, completely interrupting what the woman was saying. "I'd sooner accept the affections of a renegade ape man than his!"  
  
Sophie's smile created more questions than answers. "This will come up at another time. For now, only the past must be seen, not the future."  
  
Marguerite opened her mouth to demand just what she meant about the "future" involving Roxton, when the scene deliberately changed into a small room painted a pale blue.  
The Marguerite here was the closest resemblance to the explorer. She sat with a rather disdainful look on her face as she swirled the tea around in her cup.  
  
A man decorated in Royal uniform entered, causing her to jump out of her seat to give a quick salute to him.  
  
He nodded, taking a seat across from the heiress, pouring himself his own cup of tea.  
  
"He seems like someone who knows what he wants." Sophie's comment was right on track, but Marguerite refrained for saying so, instead, choosing to focus on the discussion that was happening before her. She was starting to feel as though she were flipping through a photo album, only stopping on the most important pictures in her life. And this one was definitely one of them…  
  
"Who is he?"   
  
Dazed, Marguerite jerked back to the reality of the situation. "Who?"  
  
"The man with all those medals."  
  
"Ah, him. He was a valuable aid when it came to enemies' plans during the Great War. I was recruited soon after the war began." Sighing remorsefully, she remarked, "Those were the days."  
  
Sophie tilted her head to one side, studying Marguerite intently. "You were a spy?"  
  
Marguerite felt the usual defensiveness coming on when someone asked her about that certain part of her life, but she felt that Sophie would somehow understand. 'Funny how I can tell a complete stranger about this, but can't seem to even utter a word to my friends.'  
  
"I was a part of their wing for the first two years of the war. I was sent all over the country, using fake names and backgrounds to pry information from people. I mingled with people of high status and spent many nights wandering around in luxury." She sighed once again, brushing wayward strands of hair out of her face.   
  
"But why did you stop?"   
  
Biting her lip, Marguerite stared hard at the scene before her, keeping her eyes away from the woman beside her. Somehow, Marguerite had a feeling that when Sophie looked into her eyes, she saw everything and the heiress had no intention of baring her soul to the stranger.  
  
"Because the branch wanted some young blood on the team, so they ditched the old ones." The hostility in her voice was unmistakable as she glared hard at the general who's bearded face seemed almost gentle as he discussed their plans.   
  
Sophie remained quiet as she stepped around Marguerite to intercept her view.  
  
"Come, we have one last stop."  
  
Once again that same mist erased the rather homely picture and created another, darker scene.   
  
The streets of London were rather quiet for this time of night, except for the faint sound of heels scraping along the cobblestones.   
  
A sudden gunshot rang out across the town, causing Marguerite to jump about a foot in the air. Shaking her head in surprise, she noticed someone coming towards them.  
  
As the footsteps became louder, the heiress could just make out the figure appearing from the murky shadows created by the grubby London buildings. The woman was dressed in a deep purple ensemble with a prim hat perched atop her head.  
  
Marguerite gasped, suddenly remembering this exact moment in her past. The woman, who was now only a mere few feet away, turned up a flight of stone steps into a well lit building, ignoring the astonished looks she received from the sentries at the door. Inside that building would be Challenger and Malone and Summerlee, not to mention Roxton, all completely oblivious about the dangers that their impending voyage would deliver…the very one she was going to volunteer to fund.  
  
"Purple suits you," Sophie commented, and Marguerite-surprised by it-turned to look at her. Sophie's face was innocent, but the dark-haired woman couldn't help but feel as if she were terribly amused by this.  
  
They both stared at each other for a few seconds before Sophie's face broke out into a smile. With a single clap of her slender hands, they were suddenly back inside a bleak, white room; the door with the brass knob in front of them, shut tightly.  
  
"Why did we stop there? What about everything after that?" Marguerite asked, angrily searching the woman's face for answers.   
  
Sophie's face was as calm and placid as ever. "Because those were the most landmark moments in your life."  
  
The heiress snorted disbelievingly, placing her hands on her hips. "I can name at least a couple fifty that could be considered that."  
  
"But we don't have the time for them," Sophie said, putting an end to the discussion with her strangely monotone remark. "Now we must get moving. Follow me."  
  
Marguerite's jaw dropped-never before had she been treated as though she was something to be bossed around. She felt a new urge to strangle the auburn-haired woman who was leading her down another white corridor, but suppressed it.  
  
'I might as well get what ever I can out of this experience. Maybe Malone can write and award-winning book out it.'  
  
Instead, with a regretful sigh, she followed closely behind, all the while trying to decipher everything so far. The puzzle pieces were becoming more numerous, and yet Marguerite had not even pieced them together.   
  
What a trip this was turning out to be.  
  
~*~  



	3. The Present

Part 3: The Present  
  
~*~  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: ::grins sheepishly:: I guess I let my procrastinating take over...well I've finally written the next two chapters to this story (praise be for Christmas holidays!) and I've started on the fifth and final one. Many thanks to all the people who have reviewed my story and those who have emailed me about it!!! It was very much appreciated.and it finally convinced me to finish this thing ::grins:: THANK YOU!  
  
~*~  
  
They wove around corners and ducked through doorways only to arrive back in the same front hall Marguerite had first walked into.  
  
But rather than stopping there, they cut off to another doorway directly opposite of them, and navigated down a rather lengthy hallway only to emerge at the foot of a sweeping staircase that looked as though it belonged inside Buckingham Palace rather than this drab place.  
  
Sophie began to climb up the stairs, but turned around suddenly when she realized that her 'pupil'-so to speak-wasn't behind her.  
  
The auburn-haired woman stared down expectantly at the other, curiously studying Marguerite's plaintive scowl.  
  
"Is there a problem?"  
  
Marguerite's narrowed eyes shifted to glare at the woman. "Yes, I most definitely have a problem with all these stairs.  
  
Sophie broke out into one of her unnerving smiles. "They are not that bad once you start." When she saw no change in Marguerite's stance, she gave a small sigh. "You'll be done before you know it."  
  
Marguerite felt as though she could have stood at the foot of the massive staircase all day long if she had to, but something in the way her companion looked at her made her do nothing but give in.  
  
Making it quite plain that she had no intention of bearing with the rather tenuous climb that lay ahead, Marguerite began to walk up the stairs, making her complaints rather vocal. She didn't want Sophie to feel as though she were giving in willingly.  
  
In the end, Marguerite's reasoning won over Sophie's. The stairs were indeed a long haul, and in the end both women were nearly out of breath as they took a small break on the top step.  
  
"I owe you an apology," Sophie commented, "Those stairs are a pain."  
  
Satisfied, Marguerite flashed her a triumphant grin. " Apology accepted."  
  
They sat in silence for a little while; one trying to regain her energy so she could face whatever lay in store for her, the other preparing herself for the next stage of the journey.  
  
In one swift movement, Sophie rose to her feet, and extended a hand down to the heiress. Marguerite, plaintively ignoring the outstretched hand, stood up and sent a wary glance down the hallway that lay in waiting.  
  
"After you."  
  
Sophie simply grinned, and stepped up onto the landing.  
  
~*~  
  
The once quiet tree house was bustling with activity, but for all the wrong reasons. Ever since a weary Roxton had returned with a pale Marguerite cradled protectively in his arms, not a single person was able to find any peace.  
  
In a matter of moments, Challenger and Summerlee had kicked the other three out of Marguerite's room so as to be able to assess her condition and clean out the wound in some state of calm.  
  
Roxton sat at the table, hands clenched together on his chest as he ran the day's events through his mind. How could he have been stupid enough to let her go to the stream on her own? They both knew better than that.but, then again, Marguerite was never the one to accept protection with ease. He let out a long sigh, and buried his head into his hands, trying to ease some of the tension that had built up.  
  
Veronica and Ned stood together on the balcony, both staring aimlessly out into the jungle. They both felt somewhat responsible for what had happened, and thoughts similar to those of Roxton flashed through their minds.  
  
"If only one of us had gone to watch her back." Ned trailed off, unable to finish his thoughts.  
  
"There was nothing we could do," Veronica-always the voice of reason- pointed out. "She would have sent us straight back. You know how she gets."  
  
He glanced over his shoulder at the distressed hunter, and shook his head. "I just wish we were able to do something.it would probably help to ease the guilt."  
  
"We did everything we could, Ned." Veronica's hand reached out to grasp his own. "We managed to bring her back in a record amount of time. Even Summerlee said there was nothing else we could have done."  
  
"I know, but still."  
  
The voices of Challenger and Summerlee grew progressively louder as they came out from Marguerite's room, looking rather satisfied with something.  
  
The three others immediately looked up-Ned and Veronica moving closer to where Roxton was sitting-and anxiously awaited the news.  
  
"There's good news and bad news," Challenger proclaimed, settling himself down at the head of the table.  
  
"The good news: Marguerite's going to be just fine," Summerlee said with a warm smile on his face. The fretfulness on everybody's faces eased up as the botanist rested a hand on Roxton's shoulder.  
  
'The bad news?" Ned asked, still looking apprehensive.  
  
"The bad news is that she'll be unconscious for a few more days, just to help her body recover from the shock it suffered," Challenger explained. "Other than that, I suggest you savour the peace, because it won't last for long."  
  
Challenger's attempt to lighten the mood worked, as everybody broke out into a smile. Roxton looked up a Summerlee, rising from his chair.  
  
"Could I see her?"  
  
The old botanist nodded, and took over the chair as Roxton disappeared into Marguerite's room. He poured himself a cup of tea, all the while smiling as the others began to lighten up and start arguing over their next destination on the plateau. It was nice to see them finally at ease.  
  
~*~  
  
Marguerite looked so peaceful resting in her bed that Roxton almost felt as though her were intruding. But the white bandages wrapped around her head were a stark contrast to the idea, and he drew up a chair close to her side.  
  
He simply sat that way for a few moments, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest assuring him that she was alive and breathing.  
  
Tentatively, he reached out for her rather pale hand, taking it gently into his own and resting it against his cheek.  
  
"Come back to me soon, Marguerite," He whispered softly, unable to draw his eyes away from her ghostly face.  
  
~*~  
  
Little did Roxton know Marguerite was already back.in a manner of speaking. She and Sophie had been there when the three explorers had returned in a rush, cradling her rather limp body, and had stayed ever since.  
  
Marguerite felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she observed the hunter's actions, incredibly touched by the gesture of affection. Never had she felt such a warm feeling of contentment as she did now, knowing that the others were that worried over some nasty little scrape on her head. Perhaps things weren't quite as bad on this godforsaken plateau as she had thought.  
  
Sophie stood back, watching Marguerite with a repressed grin on her face. All was turning out the way she had wanted it too after all.  
  
"Come, we have a bit more to do before I let you go," Sophie declared stepping up to the heiress. Although she wished that they could stay forever to let Marguerite discover just how much she was cared about; time was running out, and it was going fast.  
  
Marguerite tried to hide her disappointment as she nodded. "Just lead the way."  
  
Sophie caught the last glance Marguerite sent the hunter, but said nothing instead clapping her hands to return them back to where they had begun.  
  
Marguerite sighed as those damn white walls appeared, replacing the wooden ones of the tree house. What she wouldn't give to be back with the others, joking about the latest journey or discussing new routes to look for a new way off of the plateau. She could even tolerate Malone's attempts at cooking if only it got her away from this dreary place.  
  
Sophie was already walking towards a smaller set of stairs set off to one side, and Marguerite caught up in time to realize that they had another steep climb ahead of them.  
  
"Why can't you install elevators? It would save you the trouble of having to drag your guests up hundreds of stairs."  
  
Sophie merely grinned and lifted up her skirts to give her easier movement. "It won't be as bad as the first set. I promise."  
  
  
  
The heiress eyed the steep staircase and had serious doubts but decided to get it over with. She figured if the faster things went, the quicker she'd be back in her own domain with someone who wasn't a auburn-haired nut intent on re-opening old wounds, so she followed the woman up, careful not to trip over the trailing skirt of her companion.  
  
~*~  
  
Comments? Questions? Ideas? Just send em to: sail_the_seas@hotmail.com 


	4. The Future

Part 4: The Future  
  
~*~  
  
DISCLAIMER: See Part 1.  
  
~*~  
  
~*~  
  
Staying true to her promise, the climb lasted only a matter of seconds, and Marguerite found herself at the beginning of what looked like a maze of corridors.  
  
"Where are we now?" Marguerite demanded rather breathlessly, surveying the surroundings with hands on hips.  
  
"The final stage," Was the quiet answer.  
  
Marguerite arched a brow, giving Sophie a long, hard look. "And what do you mean by that?"  
  
Sophie's eyes managed to catch Marguerite's, holding them carefully. "You have seen the past, and the present. Now you must see-"  
  
"-the future," Marguerite finished, nodding slowly as the pieces fell into place.  
  
The heiress eyed the many doors lining the hallways with a rather cautious look. "Let me guess. I get to wander around, opening doors to see what each my future holds?"  
  
Marguerite nearly laughed at the look of astonishment on Sophie's face as she turned to face her fully.  
  
"Am I that predictable?"  
  
Marguerite just sent her a winning grin. "Let's just say its all been done before."  
  
The auburn-haired woman decide to let the comment drop and instead opted to let her newest 'pupil', so to speak, discover the final bit to her being.  
  
"Well, as you said, behind each door is a different possibility for you future. You have one hour to explore before I must send you back."  
  
Marguerite nodded, relieved to hear that she would be leaving the dull building soon. It was getting incredibly disheartening to be surrounded by white.  
  
Taking Sophie's silence as a signal to get going, the heiress started down the main hallway, eyeing the doors. Hesitantly, she reached out for one of the knobs and turned it, opening the door with a crack.  
  
  
  
~~~  
  
She sat at her elegantly decorated vanity; slowly brushing out her raven curls, admiring her lavishly decorated self in the mirror. The diamond necklace had been her latest purchase using the money from the fame she had been gaining ever since they had returned to London. After all, she had a very good excuse to dress up and show off some of the wealth she had received. Tonight was the one-year anniversary of their return; hosted by George Challenger himself and she didn't want to let her friend down.  
  
Marguerite got up, quite happy with her hair, and smoothed out the wrinkles in her silky red dress that swirled around her slim form. Just as she was reaching for her coat, she couldn't help but wonder if things would have been different. If life would have been easier if Roxton had managed to survive the fall.  
  
~~~  
  
The heiress gasped as she drew herself out of the image. She was shocked at the lack of mourning her future self had for Roxton. Where had their relationship taken such a drastic turn?  
  
Regaining her composure, she ignored the wry look Sophie sent her way, and wandered down, finally choosing another, similar door. Her hand hesitated on the knob but her stubborn mind made it turn the knob, leading Marguerite into another scene.  
  
~~~  
  
The jungle seemed so different from down below, with the trees towering above her like guards standing over the gateway to heaven. The smell of burning still lingered but it wasn't quite as over-powering as the night before. Hopefully, Challenger and the others had managed to douse the flames of the burning tree house before they spread too far across the plateau. The last thing they needed was to have the whole forest burn down on their behalf.  
  
Her right side aching from the burns she had suffered, she walked over to Veronica-who was sitting with her head in her hands, sobbing silently.  
  
Placing a hand on the blonde's ash-dusted shoulder, she tried to comfort the girl. Not only had the poor girl lost her only home, but her love as well.  
  
~~~  
  
Once again Marguerite jumped back, slamming the door shut. She tried to let go of the images she had just seen, feeling all the more determined to find out if one future-or that of her friends-was a happy one.  
  
All sorts of scenarios played out before her, some on the plateau, some off. It ranged from diseases wiping out the whole plateau to returning home only to find themselves in a different world. Each and last scene was wearing down on Marguerite's heart as she started to wonder if the possibility of a good future was too good for her.  
  
Finally-after watching the explorers executed by a strange tribe-Marguerite stormed up to Sophie, a murderous gleam in her eyes.  
  
"Is there any door in here that will show something happy?" She demanded, arms crossed angrily over her chest.  
  
Sophie looked as though she was going to avoid the question but the gleam in the heiress' eyes must have put a little sense back into her reasoning.  
  
"Remember that these are only possibilities, Marguerite. There is no reason that one future is more definite than the others." Almost immediately, the auburn-haired woman could see that her hint hadn't worked, so she decided to give in a little-just to spare her head.  
  
"The back tends to brighten people up."  
  
Not bothering to thank her, Marguerite rushed to the end, hoping to find something that would give her a sense of hope rather than a foreboding and dark sense that she had gained from the other images.  
  
Letting out a long sigh, she gripped one knob and turned, almost dreading what she would see.  
  
~~~  
  
The ballroom was nearly packed with people milling about. Marguerite observed the crowd from a small balcony set into one of the walls, trying to get the nerve to go down and greet the guests. It would take some time getting adjusted to civilization again, after spending ten years on the rather deserted plateau.  
  
"Can't face them either?" A voice spoke up from behind, and the dark-haired beauty spun around to find the five other explorers standing together in the room. She joined them, feeling a sense of security come over her as they were once again reunited.  
  
"It's just been so long," She replied. Roxton's hand reached out to grab hers as they all moved towards the top of the staircase.  
  
"I must admit it will take a little getting used to," Summerlee stated, smoothing out his smart-looking tux. "After all, we haven't really been around this many people in a while."  
  
They all nodded their agreement, a look of reassurance settling in on their faces to know that they weren't the only ones hesitant about re-entering society.  
  
"Well, I say we make our entrance before its too late," Challenger declared. They all took a deep breath, and Marguerite was tickled to notice Ned's arm resting snuggle around Veronica's waist (who was looking rather out of place without her usual outfit on).  
  
"And here we go."  
  
~~~  
  
Marguerite looked quite satisfied as she drew away from the scenario, a smile on her face.  
  
"Now that was more like it," She muttered under her breath, finally feeling a small weight lifted off of her shoulders. It was about time that she had some gleam of hope in the other wise depressing scenes she had seen before.  
  
"You have a quarter of an hour left, Marguerite," Sophie called out from somewhere amidst the depths of the hallways.  
  
Marguerite looked about at the doors that stretched endlessly around her and decided upon one last one. Bracing herself for the worst she opened the door.  
  
.and stepped into a cozy room, lit up by a burning log in the fireplace. Feeling a wave of peace wash over her, Marguerite looked around studying the warm features. It could only be Christmas time for the decorated tree standing quietly in the corner with brightly wrapped gifts beneath it gave that away. Boughs of pine hung around the mantel of the fireplace, frosted pinecones embedded into their prickly depths. Candles glowed around the room, small sprigs of holly at their base.  
  
The rich scents of cinnamon, pine, and roasting turkey invaded her senses and she couldn't help but feel content in such a place. Usually Christmas was a time worth forgetting, but for some reason, this was different. This one felt rich in laughter, life and love. Perhaps-or maybe hopefully- something in her life had changed her views on this time of year.  
  
Noises could be heard-from what direction, Marguerite couldn't tell; the occasional clatter of pots and pans, someone's voice speaking out above the dim murmurs, cupboards banged shut, all these noises combined to create a sense of completeness inside of Marguerite-something she wasn't quite used to feeling. Could this really be a possibility in her life?  
  
Suddenly she heard a clamour of footsteps coming her way and nearly bolted. Yet something held her to her place-whether out of curiosity or a hope that it was truly her vision and not someone else's she couldn't quite figure out.  
  
The doors swung open and in poured a family of familiar faces, and some newer ones too. There was Challenger, looking as though he had just made a new, life-changing discovery. The woman by his side was unfamiliar to Marguerite, yet she could only assume it was his wife. Summerlee had taken a seat in a high-backed chair by the tree, puffing on his pipe and looking immensely pleased about something.  
  
Much to her surprise, Ned and Veronica entered with two blond-haired children by their side and looking as if a third one was on its way. The couple took their refuge on the couch next to Summerlee while the children scrambled to the tree, most likely to rifle through the presents.  
  
Marguerite couldn't help but smile at the two, strangely happy that they had finally found each other. 'My, my' she thought with a wry grin, 'Could I really be mellowing out in my old age?' With a shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the door for she heard another set of footfalls heading in her direction. Marguerite braced herself for the shock that she was certain that was imminent.  
  
Oh, she was certainly shocked when the future Marguerite stepped through the door followed by Roxton, his arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders. But nothing was quite as shocking as when she spotted the gold wedding bands adorning their fingers.  
  
'Roxton and I.married?' Disbelief clouded her eyes as she watched the scene develop before her to make sure that this was a possibility and not just her mind (or Sophie's) was playing a trick on her. They were all chatting gaily about something or another when the Malone children got up from where they had crouched and ran over to Roxton, eyes pleading silently with him to stop talking and give the gifts.  
  
Roxton laughed, and Marguerite noted how much more alive he looked, the firelight illuminating his handsome features and the sparkle in his eyes. Her heart felt as though it had been captivated all over again with the hunter.  
  
Scolding herself for such foolish feelings, the heiress sat back and watched the explorers enjoy their Christmas. She decided that they must be at Roxton's manor-correction, their manor-for he seemed to be doing the distribution of gifts.  
  
But despite the feelings of scepticism she felt towards this, Marguerite couldn't help but smile as the children eagerly delved into their presents while the adults all paused in their own unwrapping to watch them.  
  
The young boy's face lit up as pulled out a brand new train set. With a wide grin he ran up to Roxton and gave him a big hug, then did the same to the future Marguerite. The whole room seemed to smile as he ran up to his parents to show off his new toy.  
  
Yet it was the girl's present that interested Marguerite. She managed to catch a glimpse of it as she pulled off the lid, but lost sight of it once the girl bent down to pull it out. Coming closer, Marguerite's eyes widened.  
  
Clutched in the young girl's hand was the same doll that Marguerite herself had gotten for Christmas all those years ago. Her cheeks were not quite as rosy, and the dress was missing a button, but other than that, the same blue eyes stared out at her from under a mane of blond ringlets, which still shone as beautiful as ever.  
  
The girl seemed almost as stunned Marguerite, and they both looked up to find the future Marguerite crouching down beside them.  
  
"This is a very special doll," the future Marguerite said quietly, smoothing back one of the ringlets. "She was given to me when I was about your age by a very nice woman. I hope that you take good care of her just like I did."  
  
The girl's eyes gazed into the future Marguerite's with the sincerity that only a child could muster. "I'll make sure to keep her in the best condition, Auntie."  
  
With a smile, the future Marguerite gave the girl a warm hug, then returned back to the cozy confines of Roxton's arms.  
  
Marguerite saw Veronica send her future self a look full of meaning. Her eyes betrayed how touched the jungle girl was, and Marguerite could swear that there was a glint of tears in her eyes.  
  
"This can't possibly be a future for me," Marguerite muttered, now observing everybody else opening their gifts. Roxton was clasping a necklace around her future self's neck, a smile on each of their faces. Their friends were all around them, laughing, joking and having a ball of a time. The children were now absorbed in their new gifts, playing with them on the carpeted floor. It just seemed too surreal for the heiress to accept.  
  
"The possibilities are endless, Marguerite," A soft voice spoke up from behind, " All you need to do is narrow them down."  
  
Turning to face the intruder, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You make it sound as though it's simple."  
  
Sophie shrugged, looking around at the room. "It's as simple as you make it out to be."  
  
"And what is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"It means that you make your own future, Marguerite." Sophie's eyes seemed to bore a hole into her as she faced the heiress. "If you make choices that you know will not be of any aid to you, then you have not made it simple to acquire the future you want. You must make decisions that will benefit you, and only you can do that. In simpler terms, you determine the difficulty of what lays ahead."  
  
Marguerite arched a brow, sorting everything out in her head. "So basically, I have to make my choices on what will help me in the future."  
  
"Just remember one thing, sometimes the decision you have to make involve others. When that happens, rely on your conscious. Yours of all people's needs to get a work out."  
  
Marguerite sent Sophie a withering glare at that, but still she didn't seem convinced. "I just don't quite see how my future can turn out to be as perfect as this." Her hand gestured towards the small family-like group that huddled around the fire and the inviting feeling that they gave off.  
  
Sophie walked up to Marguerite and took her by the shoulders, giving the heiress a start. "Hear me now: A future like this is difficult to obtain, and it will take a bit of work to get here, but you have it in you Marguerite. You have chances everyday to make your future brighter than your past. What you need to do is take them."  
  
Marguerite stared hard at Sophie, who suddenly looked wiser than the ages, trying to digest what the auburn-haired had just said.  
  
It took the heiress a few moments to realize that Sophie was no longer gripping her shoulders and that they were now back in the entrance of the hallway, the great door looming above her.  
  
Shaking herself out of the dreamy haze, Marguerite found Sophie slowly opening the door. A bright gleam of sunlight penetrated the otherwise drab house, and seemed to enlighten Sophie's form. The woman suddenly seemed as though she were an apparition, emerging from the other world to greet the sun's rays.  
  
Marguerite walked up-taking this as her cue to leave-and gave Sophie's hand a shake.  
  
"Any last pieces of advice?" Marguerite asked lightly, trying to shake off the sudden feeling of disappointment. An inner part of her wished to stay and learn more about this strange woman and her house, but something urged her to leave for her friends were waiting.  
  
"Live in the present, my dear. Not in the past or the future; the present is what counts."  
  
Marguerite nodded, sending Sophie one last smile.  
  
"I guess I'll see you around then?"  
  
Sophie's smile was genuine and light. "You can count on it, Marguerite Krux."  
  
With one last wave, Marguerite stepped out of the house and into the warm outdoors. The sun that had been previously hidden now bathed her in a warmth that the house didn't possess. Suddenly her heart felt a little lighter than before.  
  
She reached the spot where she had first woken up and turned to see if Sophie was still there.  
  
But when she looked back, there was only the same grassy expanse that surrounded her. Nothing remained of the white house, nor of the woman who occupied it.  
  
Marguerite sighed, finding it hard to believe that she had just experienced what she did. Could she really have seen all that? Images of a certain future scene flashed through her head as she finally decided that perhaps, she had seen it after all.  
  
Letting out a breath, she turned to continue along the path only to find that where a dirt road should have continued, a hazy barrier interrupted it instead.  
  
Assuming that is was her doorway out of the place-and feeling too exhausted to protest-Marguerite walked into the haze, looking forward to getting back to the tree house and getting away from the empty land that surrounded her.  
  
She felt as though she were falling as soon as she stepped inside, but she simply ignored it, focusing on other things until the fall seemed to end as she drifted back down to her body and back to her home.  
  
~*~  
  
TBC in Part 5.hopefully coming soon!  
  
Anything you want to say? Just email me at: sail_the_seas@hotmail.com 


	5. Beginnings of a Journey

~*~ Disclaimer: See Chapter 1  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Oh my, I can't believe I actually got around to finishing this. I'm so terribly sorry that it took that long. I did have the first half written but the ending was proving to become quite a problem. Well, to all those who have reviewed this story, and to all those who will, many, MANY thanks! You guys are awesome to stick with me throughout this whole thing, and your patience is absolutely and totally amazing (either that or you just forgot ;)) Since I have yet to see Season 3 of TLW (I'm stuck in Canada), I think I'll have to put stories on hold since I have no idea what's going on anymore (heck, I'm still clinging to the fact that Summerlee's alive and kicking)..anyway, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!  
  
Now enjoy.  
  
~*~ Part 5: Beginnings of a Journey ~*~ She became vaguely aware her surroundings as her eyelids fluttered open, her head feeling light and dizzy. Distantly aware of something cool pressed against her forehead, Marguerite struggled to focus her vision so that she could see her surroundings.  
  
"Ah, my dear, I see you've finally decided to wake up."  
  
The voice that rang out over the incessant jungle noises was all too familiar, and as her eyes began to clear, Marguerite beheld a wonderful sight.  
  
"Arthur?"  
  
The old man smiled, removing the wet cloth he had pressed on her forehead. "Good morning to you, Miss Krux. It's been a little while."  
  
Abruptly, Marguerite sat up in her bed, ignoring the flash of lights that sparkled in her eyes after the sudden movement. Her eyes scanned the room, trying to reassure herself that she was truly in the tree house and not in another vision.  
  
When her eyes came to rest upon Professor Summerlee's smiling face and worried eyes, she knew that she was home.  
  
On impulse, Marguerite grinned brightly and threw her arms around the Professor's shoulders to give him a quick squeeze. The show of emotion took both of the explorers by surprise, but neither one regretted it.  
  
"It's nice to be home, Summerlee," She whispered. Craning her hearing, she realized that the tree house was abnormally silent. "Where are the others?"  
  
Summerlee, still trying to sort through what had just happened, waved his hand absentmindedly towards the door. "Veronica is around here working on her latest sketch, Challenger and Malone are outside tinkering around with one of Challenger's newest inventions, and Roxton, well, he's around here somewhere."  
  
"If you have no objections, I'd like to go out and see them."  
  
Summerlee shook his head and was about to reply, but Marguerite was already out of bed, taking a quick peek in the mirror. She noticed that her bandages were gone, and all that remained of her ordeal was a newly healed scar that cut across her forehead. What was a nasty bruise was also beginning to fade on her cheek, but the heiress simply ignored it.  
  
Satisfied with what she saw, she gave her dark hair a quick brush, while listening to Arthur's instructions.  
  
"Now don't strain yourself too much, my dear. It's only been three days, and the concussion is still taking its time to wear off."  
  
Marguerite nodded, then flashed him another smile. "Thank you for your help, Arthur. I promise to be careful."  
  
He watched her retreating back, and shook his head in wonder at what he had just experienced. Perhaps Marguerite had hit her head harder than they thought, for he had never seen the heiress be so cooperative or cheerful since they had started out on this godforsaken expedition.  
  
The Professor shrugged it off and began to clean up the bandages that were lying around. He decided he would get his answers later, when everybody had said their hellos.  
  
~~  
  
Marguerite scoured the tree house for Veronica, and eventually found her by the deck, an easel in front of her and paints in hand. Determined to turn over a few new leaves, the heiress surmised that it would start with the jungle girl she had come to know well.  
  
"It's beautiful," Marguerite commented from over Veronica's shoulder, admiring the soft colours of the flowers she was painting.  
  
"Why thank you, Marguerite," The blond girl replied automatically. Then suddenly she realized who had just talked to her.  
  
"Marguerite?" She exclaimed, whirling around on her stool. "But what are you doing up? Shouldn't you be in bed? What have you done with Summerlee?"  
  
Marguerite held up a hand in an effort to slow down the questions that were being directed at her. "Summerlee's fine, and he said I was ready to get out of bed. Besides, you expect me to sleep in on such a beautiful day?"  
  
Veronica was taken back by the last comment, not used to Marguerite being so enthusiastic over anything, unless it was worth something. And the heiress was never one to wake up and recognize a beautiful day.  
  
Puzzled, Veronica could only smile warily as Marguerite gave her shoulder a pat. "Would you know where the others are by any chance?"  
  
The jungle girl nodded her head in the direction of the jungle. "They should be around near the base of the tree."  
  
"I should have guessed," Marguerite muttered, then smiled at Veronica. "I'll be back."  
  
With that she waltzed off to the elevator and started the descent down to the jungle floor. Veronica could only watch in stunned amazement as the elevator began its rickety descent. Something drastic must have happened while Marguerite was knocked out, for she had never, ever known the heiress to be quite that friendly.  
  
Hearing footsteps, Veronica turned around to find Summerlee packing up the newly washed bandages they had used for Marguerite.  
  
"She really did hit her head hard," The jungle girl remarked casually, trying to sort through it all.  
  
Summerlee simply smiled. "It seems as though she has truly woken up to what's around her."  
  
"Or she's just gone crazy."  
  
The Professor laughed, tucking the last of the rolled bandages back into their storage box. "Perhaps we're both right, my girl."  
  
~~  
  
Ned Malone and Challenger were slaving over one of the failed experiments at safely trapping prey when Marguerite found them.  
  
"Good morning gentlemen. Having fun?"  
  
Surprised, their heads shot up-Ned's bumping against the top of the cage- their eyes wide.  
  
Challenger was the first to regain his senses. "Marguerite! You're looking better. How do you feel?" He wiped his oily hands on a spare rag, and then went over to feel her forehead.  
  
The heiress grasped his arm and pried his hand away. "I'm fine Challenger, really. It was just a nasty scratch, that's all."  
  
"Well it's a good sign that you can be up and about so soon after waking up," The explorer remarked. "It means your concussion is wearing off a lot faster than I expected."  
  
"I'm not one to meet people's expectations," Marguerite replied with a wry grin.  
  
"So what happened by the river?" Ned asked, as he wiped away the dirt and soot that had collected on his face, secretly nursing the bump that was beginning to form on his head. "You went off for water, then the next thing we know, Roxton's rushing back with you and your head bleeding away."  
  
A warm sort of feeling crept through her defences at the thought of Roxton rushing with her in his arms, but she suppressed it for now, instead turning to Ned to give him an answer, or lack thereof.  
  
"I'll tell you about it one day Malone, but I was wondering if you had seen Roxton anywhere about? I need to talk to him."  
  
"He came by a few minutes ago. Said he was going to go by the pond to wash off." Ned jerked his thumb down the path that led to the water. "He should still be there."  
  
"Thanks." Marguerite waved as she headed off down the beaten track. "I'll be back eventually."  
  
As Marguerite disappeared around the bend, Challenger and Malone exchanged a glance.  
  
"Well that was.interesting," Malone commented trying to put into words what he had just seen.  
  
"It seems our Marguerite has decided to turn over a new leaf," Challenger observed, just as confused as his friend. "Perhaps something happened while she was out. There have been studies on visions of those who have been in comas, or unconscious for certain periods of time."  
  
Ned shrugged, easing out the kinks in his shoulders as he did so. "Well whatever happened to her, I have a feeling it won't be around for too long. Marguerite's not one to be cheerful for extended periods of time."  
  
"Of course, she is with Roxton at the moment, so you never know." Challenger's comment earned a laugh out of both men, as they began to work on the trap again. "We may have just experienced a new historical event, Malone. Things may be changing around here."  
  
"But will it be for better or for worse?" Ned replied dryly, sending a surreptitious grin to his friend.  
  
"We'll just have to wait and see."  
  
~~  
  
As Marguerite continued on down to the pond, she began to feel little nerves growing in her stomach. After her ordeal with Sophie, she had woken up feeling energized, and convinced to start making some changes. She had seen a future that she had been wishing for, and now with the knowledge that she could achieve it, she was determined to make that same kind of life for herself.  
  
The big surprise for her was that it hadn't been hard at all to reach out to her fellow explorers. And the true shock of it was that they didn't mind at all. In fact, she had been rewarded with more grins and puzzled but pleased glances than she had in awhile. While her mood wouldn't last, at least the connections she had made, and was planning on making, would- hopefully-last a lifetime.  
  
The pond was beginning to come into view amid the bushed and plants that obscured the scenery. Marguerite's eyes scanned what she could see, and disappointment hit. There was no sign of the hunter anywhere in the clearing.  
  
Determined to find him at any cost, the heiress quickened her pace and nearly burst out of the path and into the clearing.  
  
Her eyes caught sight of him just as she stepped out of the plant-entangled trail. His back was to her, a little to her left, dousing his dark head with handfuls of water.  
  
Biting her lip in resolve, she fought the nerves that were slowly spreading throughout her whole body, and began walking towards the hunter.  
  
She was just a few feet away, when Roxton straightened, and swivelled around to detect the noise he had just heard. His eyes widened at the sight of Marguerite frozen to the spot, still dressed in the clothes he had found her in just days before.  
  
'Damn his ears,' Marguerite thought sourly as she caught John's gaze. Just as she was about to open her mouth, she found herself suddenly and unexpectedly encircled by two strong arms and crushed against his chest. Marguerite could do nothing except hug him back just as tightly, burying her face in the folds of his shirt. Never had she thought it would feel so good to be held by John Roxton, of all people.  
  
The hug was brief, but it gave the heiress the reassurance she needed.  
  
"It's nice to see you too," Marguerite managed to gasp once John let her go, trying to regain some of the air that had been squeezed out of her.  
  
"What are you doing up so quickly?' Roxton demanded, the surprise of seeing her sending him of guard. " You should be resting, not gallivanting around the jungle without protection."  
  
"Well excuse me for wanting to say hello," Marguerite shot back, that familiar spark welling up. " For your information, I feel perfectly fine. The scratch isn't as bad as everyone thought."  
  
His hand reached up and gently traced the scar that still remained. It had healed well, he noted, but that still didn't assure him of her good health.  
  
"What did Challenger and Summerlee have to say about you being up and about?"  
  
With a frustrated sigh, she slapped his hand away from her forehead. "They said the exact same thing that I just told you. I'm fine," She stated, stressing the two words firmly. "Besides, I needed to see you."  
  
The last sentence fell out before Marguerite could stop herself, and she quickly froze up, cursing herself for being so stupid.  
  
Roxton caught the last few words, and hope surged through him. She had never admitted to wanting to see him before. But what had changed her mind? He decided not to worry about it just yet. This was a moment he had a feeling he would enjoy.  
  
Marguerite mentally kicked herself when she saw the sudden glint in the hunter's eyes, but bit back her fear and continued. Today she was going to make some change, and this was the last thing she needed to do.  
  
"Yes, you heard me straight. I needed to show you something."  
  
He spread his arms out, and sent her one of his most dashing smiles. "Well then, show me."  
  
'There's no time like the present,' The heiress thought in an effort to prepare herself for what she was about to do next. Steeling herself, Marguerite took one step closer to him, so her body was nearly touching his. Her arms inched up around his neck, and her eyes lifted to catch his.  
  
At first, Roxton was unsure of what exactly she had meant by her words, but as she moved closer, suddenly things became clearer. He wanted to pinch himself, to make sure none of this was a dream.  
  
But when Marguerite lifted her mouth to his to capture them in a sweet kiss, the only coherent thought the hunter could muster was, 'I'm not dreaming'.  
  
As the kiss deepened, so did their passion, and Marguerite allowed her arms to tighten around his neck, pleasantly surprised when his own twined about her waist to pull her closer.  
  
They remained in their embrace, and Marguerite finally realized what she had been missing. The change she had been seeking was found, and deep down, a part of her knew that she had found that final puzzle piece that had gone astray in her life. For once she was glad to be living in the present, in the moment, and by the way Roxton had reacted, she knew he felt the same way.  
  
They would have to talk, she realized, there was so much to say that had been left buried for the last two years. But for now, she was quite content to relax and enjoy the present while she still had it.  
  
Roxton was the present now, Marguerite was beginning to believe, and deep down, a tiny part of her was whispering that maybe, just maybe he might be the future too.  
  
~*~  
  
THE END 


End file.
